


You Break Me Down; You Build Me Up

by ElisabethMonroe



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Proper use of stun batons, Revenge, Sam Wilson Is a Good Bro, Torture, bucky barnes has a good day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-09
Updated: 2017-07-09
Packaged: 2018-11-29 23:29:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11451312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElisabethMonroe/pseuds/ElisabethMonroe
Summary: In which:Brock Rumlow wasn't involved in Civil War at all and is still aliveFor nowAnd Bucky Barnes takes care of HYDRA





	You Break Me Down; You Build Me Up

**Author's Note:**

> Team Rumlow-Died-Too-Fucking-Fast-And-Bucky-Should-Have-Been-The-One-To-Do-It  
> Unbeta'd. I wrote this this morning after waking up so who knows ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯  
> Mature for violence. It is violent. The Winter Soldier is violent. And Sam isn't totally a cinnamon roll. Kind of a sinnamon roll.  
> Title from "Believer" by Imagine Dragons

Bucky had never liked glass elevators. The first time he saw one was in the seventies and, even only half cognizant, he knew he didn’t like them. He still hated them. He particularly hated this fucking spy agency using them. Sure, they were mirrored from the outside. People in the elevator could look down but people on the street couldn’t look in. Didn’t settle his stomach any as the SHIELD elevator raced to the ground.

He leaned this way and that until he found his vague outline in the glass and started fussing with his hair. It was significantly shorter than the last time he’d been in a glass elevator. Hell, it was shorter than the last time he’d been in a SHIELD building at all. It made the hairs on the back of his neck raise. That could also be his self-given mission for the day.

After DC, most of HYDRA was exterminated by either Bucky’s romping through various countries or Steve’s and Sam’s elsewhere. Sam had been the one to find Rumlow, licking his wounds and already planning something. Neither Steve nor Sam could figure it out but they hauled him back to New York. Sam was still not pleased about the decision. Bucky could see the logic in it, though. Rumlow was the best agent they’d ever had. A psychopath, but a damn good soldier and spy. And he was the only one left standing with connections to HYDRA.

They’d been monitoring him. He wasn’t stupid enough to try to contact HYDRA on work computers, but his home was monitored too and he’d led SHIELD to a number of bases that were lying low. It was the only reason he had any length on his leash at all. SHIELD wanted him alive and so Steve and Sam had to leave him alive, no matter how much it hurt.

Bucky wasn’t SHIELD and Rumlow wasn’t walking out of this elevator.

The tac suit that Steve had stolen from him in increments was awkward. It was too close fitted and the material hadn’t been worked out enough. He’d wished he’d had a few days to get used to it but, by all accounts, Rumlow was getting ready to run and Bucky wasn’t going to let that happen.

He pretended the elevator sliding to a quick stop didn’t send his stomach to this throat. He kept facing the other direction while the vertigo left him. He could see one, two, three people walk in and then Rumlow. He saw Rumlow glance up at his form briefly before going back to the file he was reading.

If these goons were with Rumlow, that probably meant they weren’t all that great either. Bucky kept still and tried to think of how to best dispose of them without cluttering the floor. As it turned out, it didn’t matter because five floors later, the other three left and it was only Rumlow and Bucky. They were ten floors from the ground now and Bucky couldn’t risk running out of time. He’d have to stop the carriage.

“You could take up the Captain America mantle if anything happens to Rogers,” Rumlow said suddenly. Bucky checked in the glass to make sure he was still facing forward, not studying Bucky too closely. Bucky knew he looked different. He was fed. He was healthy. The easy Brooklyn Summertime tan had come back to his skin. His hair was shorter. He looked like a person again. Rumlow had never seen him as anything more than a weapon, so it’d be easy to blend in.

Still, Bucky didn’t like Steve’s name on the man’s lips and he tensed slightly. “Wasn’t aware they’d taken your muzzle off,” he bit out.

He saw Rumlow jerk upright, folder snapping shut in his hand. “Just who the hell do you think you are, soldier?”

Bucky damn near cringed but he didn’t. Instead, he turned—away from Rumlow and towards the wall—and shut off the carriage. He denied a request for help when one popped up on the screen. Everyone in this organization was as dramatic as Steve and confidential elevator meetings were a norm.

“What the fuck, man?” Rumlow asked, reaching over to start the carriage again. Bucky grabbed his hand, faster than the eye could move, and bent his fingers backwards. To his credit, Rumlow only grunted and shifted forward to lessen the strain. Bucky broke his fingers anyway and then kicked his legs out from under him. His weight was already on his thighs for how he’d gone down with his hand and the Soldier always went for the center of the body, not an outside shot. The center of the body was the most vulnerable spots and the Soldier was strong enough to break any of them. Bucky preferred incapacitation and he was going to make sure Rumlow lasted a long time.

"Hey, Rumlow, it's nothing personal," Bucky bit out.

By now, Rumlow must have already figured out who he was again. Bucky had used his metal hand to break Rumlow’s fingers and, even under a glove, Rumlow would know the feel of the weapon. The spy turned on his side and Bucky kicked him back, standing on the elbow of the arm that was reaching for his stun baton. Bucky grabbed it instead.

“Don’t you know this only ever worked the first time you used it on me?” Bucky asked, looking at the night stick. He stepped off of Rumlow’s arm and hauled him to his feet. He didn’t hesitate when he saw Rumlow’s hand go to his waist again, smashing the baton against his fingers and crushing the phone that was under them. Too bad it was the same hand.

Rumlow was sweating and there were tears on his face from pain but the maniac got off on shit like that so Bucky wasn’t counting him out yet. “We got ten years to get through, man,” Bucky said, mocking Brock’s colloquial speech. Even frozen, he’d known it was a perversion of connotations to be being beaten by the man who was calling you something friends normally called each other.

Bucky waited for Rumlow to find his feet under him before letting go of his shirt. “Come on. You handcuffed Rogers in here and beat the shit out of him. Why don’t you try me? Got anymore magnets?” He’d seen the video of the fight from the elevator. Sharon had been smart enough to save it, especially when HYDRA had reared his filthy head and tried to squash everyone else down.

Steve had fucking obliterated Rumlow. Even chained to the wall, even vastly outnumbered. Rumlow alone with the Winter Soldier fully in control of his body? He must have known he was going to die.

Rumlow settled on his feet, bringing up his good hand and trying to do something with his bad hand. “You know, you do this…you ain’t better than what we trained you to be. You’ll just be—“

Bucky didn’t wait for him to finish. Instead, he cracked the baton across Rumlow’s cheek and sent him spinning into the outer edge of the elevator. “I said fight, you stupid son of a bitch. Don’t run your mouth.”

Brock was bleeding, badly, when he righted himself. The upper half of his cheekbone was caved in and there was blood from where the corner of his eye had split. Bucky moved to the door, decreasing the distance between them. He flipped the baton in his hand and crouched down.

“They ain’t gonna let you walk away for this.”

“I’m already gonna be on trial for Kennedy. Do you think you’re more important than the president?”

Rumlow snarled and lunged for Bucky, getting his arms around Bucky’s waist. Even if he was prepared for it, it still took the air out of him and he let himself get pinned to the door. He felt Rumlow’s hand go to his crotch and Bucky brought his knee up into Rumlow’s first, kicking out Rumlow’s knee from the inside on his already beaten leg. He let the balance in weight carry them around until he had Rumlow shoved to the door. He pressed the stun baton to Rumlow’s crotch and felt him tense. Bucky didn’t turn it on.

“I’m the one who taught all of you stupid morons to rip genitals off,” Bucky scoffed, extricating himself from Rumlow’s hold. He kicked his leg once more and down he went. “And no one was able to do it as well as me. Why would you try through a tac suit?” He scoffed and wiped himself down, making sure Rumlow hadn’t put any smaller magnets, explosives, or stunners on him.

“You’re desperate. They didn’t let you keep much, did they?” He looked to Rumlow’s utility belt and its empty holsters. “No gun, no small taser, no bombs, no knives. Just this,” he flipped the baton in his hand, “and a fucking phone. They really did bring you low. Into the ground as I heard. Whole building on top of you.” A feral smirk cut across his face and stepped forward to stand over Rumlow’s good wrist. “You’re about as ugly on the outside as you are on the inside now.”

“Got a matching set now,” Rumlow spit out, blood and tears running into the corner of his mouth. He still stared up at Bucky with a grin and sharp eyes.

“Matching set of what?” Bucky humored, testing his weight over Rumlow’s wrist.

“Copped a feel on both super soldiers.” Bucky froze over him. “Oh, yeah. Rogers was desperate. Got a thing for muscular brunets. People from the army, y’know?” Bucky snarled down at him and Rumlow grinned. “Loved wall sex. You should try it. Hold those arms over his head and just reach into his pants. Somewhere public. He really hates that good-boy image.”

“Steve has standards.”

“ _Steve_ was in a bad place.” He managed to corrupt Steve’s name with just one use and Bucky almost brought the baton down on the other side of his face for it. “If I called him doll, I could get him to say your name.”

Bucky cracked him on the other side. The scarring cut open where it was thin but also padded his bone more. Rumlow groaned under him, though it was far from sexual.

“Oh, he’d cry afterwards. If it was too rough, if it was too soft. If he remembered you or he forgot you.”

“How are you still going?” Bucky growled, pulling Rumlow up and throwing him into the corner. “Open your fucking mouth.” And when Rumlow didn’t comply, he knocked his jaw. Not hard enough to break it but hard enough for it to fall open for just long enough for Bucky to get the baton in it. He felt Rumlow shove his tongue against the tip to push it out before he thought better of it. Terror flashed across his face only briefly before he forced himself to calm down. Order through pain, huh?

“You ever do the shit you did to me to anyone else?” Bucky asked, running the tip of the baton along Rumlow’s cheek. The flesh was soft and giving and Bucky could feel where the electrodes at the tip pulled and caught on scarring. “I know a super soldier could survive it. I survived a thousand times worse in the chair. But could a human.” Rumlow closed his lips around the baton and glared up at Bucky. “Then again, you’re not quite human, are you?” He clicked the baton down to its lowest voltage and saw Rumlow flinch with every single one. “A human couldn’t survive a building falling on him. A human couldn’t survive Captain America punching him in the face. Better take your teeth off,” he warned before turning on the baton for a split second.

It was all it took for Rumlow to react violently, thrashing and convulsing, jaw falling open and saliva dripping from his lips. His eyes rolled back in his head and Bucky thought that they were done. He freed the baton and kicked the center of Rumlow’s chest hard before going to the control panel to start the elevator again. Just as he was about to okay it, something jumped on his back and threw off his unsuspecting balance. Stupid, _stupid_.

He fell backwards and Rumlow reacted quick enough to not get trapped under him. He landed on his knees off to the side and got to his feet steadily enough to confirm Bucky’s theories about him being enhanced in some way. He kicked Bucky in the face and Bucky knew his nose broke in the same spot he’d broken it when he was fifteen and playing baseball with some kids from school. It always broke there.

He cursed and got to his feet just in time to catch Rumlow’s next kick to his ribs and he had every intention of flipping him onto his back when he suddenly felt his own knee go backwards. An unconscious scream ripped through his throat and he fell against the wall hard. He couldn’t feel his leg and everything was screaming to get the fuck out of the way.

Rumlow walked up to him and he had the fucking stun baton in his hands again. Dammit. Instead of trying to get to his feet, he dove forward, throwing his weight into Rumlow’s good knee. He’d known it was mostly stupid. He could already hear the crackling of the electricity so when the baton fell on him, it zapped him hard all the way over his back until it fell to the ground, but Rumlow fell too and it gave Bucky enough time to grab the baton, turn it off, and then get to his feet slowly. It was a tedious process. The Soldier was trained to work through any pain but Bucky had gotten complacent. He didn’t want to be hurt anymore and anytime he was hurt, he wanted it to stop. It couldn’t stop yet.

When Rumlow got to his knees, Bucky grabbed his hair and slammed him into the glass wall. The skin on his forehead split around his temple and the glass cracked slightly and came away red.

“It’s rude to play with your food, Soldier,” Rumlow slurred. His jaw still looked loose and all of the fluids on his face were giving him a waxy look. It wasn’t enough.

“Hypocrite. I told you. We have ten years to make up for.” He dropped to his knees and pretended like it wasn’t because his weight wouldn’t be supported anymore. It was his left knee and the arm was proving too much. He’d been tipping to the side. He kept one of Brock’s wrists in his hand and pulled it behind his back until it popped and Rumlow cried out. “How many times do you think you did that to me in ten years?” he asked conversationally as he lined his metal shoulder up to Rumlow’s shoulder and popped it back into place. Another sound escaped Rumlow. It might have been a whimper but he was trying for a grunt. Without brooding on it, Bucky dislocated his shoulder again. “Should we do it ten times? That’d be fucking conservative, don’t you think?”

“Fuck you,” Rumlow panted. Bucky got up and threw him against the window. He held onto one of the bars along the walls to use his foot to shove Rumlow’s shoulder back in before dropping to his knees and dislocating his other.

He could feel his leg trying to get back together and he knew he had to be standing, or at least somewhat straight for the bone to set right. He got to his feet again and hauled Rumlow up with him. He braced him against the window and brought his fist down on his face three times. Not hard enough to kill him but it brought more blood and snot and tears. The body was a fragile, manipulative thing.

Bucky pulled a knife free and pressed it into Rumlow’s useless hand. “Fight back,” he ordered, knowing full well he couldn’t. The knife clattered to the floor and rage clouded Rumlow’s face. Bucky grabbed another knife. This one he held to Rumlow’s throat. “You’ve made yourself useful again, so if you want to try to survive, go for it. But one day they won’t want you anymore and you can bet that I’ll be the one they call to dispose of you.”

Rumlow glared more and Bucky scoffed. “I’m the one with a knife, sweetheart. So you focus on breathing, not pissing me off.” He pressed a shallow cut just over Runlow’s wind pipe and then dragged the blade down from the hallow of his chin over his Adam’s apple and to the vee in his collar bones. He started bleeding immediately and Bucky made the horizontal cut just a little deeper. He didn’t actually want Rumlow walking away from this. He let the man fall to the ground and then started the elevator again before getting out through a loose panel in the top. He replaced all of it just so and waited for the carriage to stop.

It only took a few minutes after that for the alarms to go off and he heard the rest of the building groan as other elevators were stopped. He started to climb up the elevator wires and let himself out on a meeting room floor. No one was around and he made sure his clothes were neat, his gloves were on, and then he walked away, pulling out his phone to text Sam.

 

Video was off, right? -BB

\--Man, this is more suspicious than missing video footage. -SW

I have the doctored footage. Don’t worry about it. -BB  
Enjoy the show? -BB

\--You coulda knocked him in the face a few more times for me. -SW

It was a job, not a playdate. -BB

\--Well, if he wakes up, I’ll be more than happy to babysit your playdate. -SW

He better not wake up. -BB

\--You’re a scary mother fucker. -SW

Well, now I don’t have to be. -BB

\--Chinese for dinner? -SW  
\--And don’t worry. I told Steve we were going to DC for the day. -SW  
\--Got some buddies to cover for me. -SW

Chinese sounds fine. Do you want to stay the night or go home? -BB

\--I think I could get used to LA for a few days. -SW

No pictures on social media. -BB

\--You only think I’m an idiot. -SW

 

Bucky took a deep breath and looked out at the beach before him. This was the beginning of a future free from his past. It felt great.


End file.
